


6 Kisses for Blakes's 7

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Compilation What Compilation, Crack, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other, Request Meme, varying degrees of explicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I once fulfilled a number of requests for 'First Kisses' in the Blake's 7 fandom. None were very long, so I decided to make each a chapter in one post. They run from pure crack to fairly serious, but no downbeat endings. Explicity varies, too, but none really have much detail- it was a short fic meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Domn It! (blakefancier's request)

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Avon had suspected it for some time, but hadn't really cared to put it to the test. With Vila and Gan in his harem, he really didn't _need_ any more subs. Particularly not a sub who didn't know his own mind.

If he wanted to fuck a big man, Gan was always willing to spread his legs. Gan wasn't pretty, but then, Avon didn't care about appearances. If he had, Anna would have been his last choice as a lover. She wasn't even male.

Vila was good, too, very playful and excellent at whimpering pleas. He also knew how to perform a proper foot rub. 

Blake obviously didn't know how to do _anything_. If he'd had any doubts, that night when Jenna got drunk enough to proposition him would have eliminated them. Jenna was a mean drunk. She cursed and called Blake a ball-less wonder, and described in intimate detail how she'd attempted to seduce him with gentleness and staunch support, perfume, and adoring gazes. And the harder she tried, the faster Blake backed away. Fortunately, Jenna passed out before Avon had to tell her that she really wasn't his type either. Two doms in one bed... no, not a pleasant thought. 

But Blake... well, why not? Why not, indeed.

***

Avon observes himself in the mirror; black leather and studs, haughty expression, crotch-tight trousers. He applies a generous amount of musky cologne and considers himself ready. Vila had told him quite a bit about the effects of conditioning; Blake's subconscious memory can be triggered if he goes about it the right way. Vila says his hands always remember what his mind forgets, and that starts the breakdown of the conditioning.

Well, Avon's not aiming at Blake's _hands._ He arrives at Blake's quarters and leans on the announcer. "Avon. Let me in, Blake." He states it as an order, not a request.

The door slides open, and Blake is standing there, understandably looking annoyed. "What do you..."

Avon interrupts him by striding forward and grasping Blake's hair roughly. "Lock the door," he orders.

Blake's eyes glitter dangerously, but he gives the command and the door closes and locks itself. "Now, what is all this about?"

Avon tugs on Blake's hair. His other hand unzips his trousers. He isn't wearing undergarments, and is quite excited. "Kneel." He stares directly into Blake's eyes and is gratified to see the confusion and anger suddenly vanish. He smiles. "Kneel and suck me, bitch."

The crack of Blake's knees hitting the floor makes Avon wince. Blake looks up at him, enraptured, and then applies his mouth to Avon's urgent need.

Avon holds Blake's hair, guiding him, cursing him softly and calling him vile names. Blake moans and sucks harder.

After he comes, Avon tugs on Blake's hair, bringing him to his feet and kissing him hungrily, tasting himself on Blake's lips, bitter and strong. He opens Blake's trousers and roughly strokes Blake to orgasm. When Blake finishes, Avon wipes his hand on Blake's shirt and steps back.

Blake smiles at him. "This won't change anything on the flight deck." His lips are swollen and his eyes are dancing with amusement.

Avon grins. "I know." He zips himself up and leaves.


	2. A Real Man  (Roj Blake's request)

The equinox, or whatever the hell it was, seemed to have arrived early. Jarvik picked off a few of the large bugs that were attacking the screaming workers. He was exasperated by their stupidity. "Look, you can see the damn things are slower than supply requisitions! Get the hell out of their way, why don't you?" He kicked one of the workers in the arse to hurry him. "A real man's not afraid of a stupid bug!"

The man spared him a resentful look as he limped off. "A _real_ man wouldn't have to use a gun against a stupid bug!"

"Right!" Jarvik tossed his weapon to his second in command. "Del, see that the workers get back to the ship safely." He strode over to the nearest of the big bugs and lunged at it, grappling it to the ground as Del watched in horror.

The big jaws clenched and went for Jarvik's throat. As his hands were busy holding the pincers away from his crotch, Jarvik picked up a piece of Kairopan between his teeth and shoved it between the bug's jaws. 

The bug crunched the Kairopan, and swallowed it, then it made a soft whistling noise and a long tongue darted out to lick across Jarvik's lips. While Jarvik was sputtering and wiping at his mouth, the bug flipped him over and began rubbing enthusiastically at him. 

"DEL!" Jarvik shrieked. "SHOOT IT!"

Del aimed his gun, and then lowered, it, grinning, when he realized what the bug was after. "It likes you, Jarvik."

Afterward, as Del helped the limping Jarvik back to the shuttle, Brian lay on his back, waved his legs in the air, and sighed, totally satisfied. There's nothing like having a real man.


	3. Kiss-Off (jaxomsride's request)

Vila had one arm around Tarrant, dragging him out of the collapsing base, the other arm around the rung of the ladder, when he heard it. The teleport? Liberator was still intact? He didn't have time to think about it after that because he also heard the rumbles of explosions moving towards the base's main power plant, and Cally's despairing cry for Blake.

He flung himself over Tarrant, protecting him from the debris.

"Oh, how charming, you can be a hero."

Vila looked up, startled. "Servalan! What are you doing here!" He scrambled to his feet. 

Servalan glided to him, smooth as a snake in the grass. She smiled. "You neglected to mention that the Liberator was... shall we say... not in the best of condition." One scarlet finger traced a line down his cheek.

"That's your fault, you know! You dangled Blake in front of Avon and made him drag us all here, right through a... well, whatever it was, it rotted the ship!"

"I could hardly have known that, Vila! You can't imagine I wanted the ship destroyed. I'm as stranded here as you are."

"Eh? What about that ship Dayna and Avon went to...oh." Vila glared at her. "It wasn't enough blowing up Cally and Tarrant, was it?"

Servalan smiled. "Now it's just us." She moved closer still, her eyes huge and golden. "I've always liked you, Vila. You're not like the others."

Vila stared at her open-mouthed. She pressed against him, all soft and smelling of expensive perfume, her dress rustling. Her lips descended on his.

Vila sighed and put his arms around her. And then he jumped back, holding her ice-crystal knife in his hands, nervously. "Oh, now, that wasn't very friendly. Why don't you go play with the links?"

Servalan snarled and tensed. Vila threw the knife into the underbrush. "What do you want to bet you killed Dayna and Avon? They're not like me, trusting and friendly, you know. _I_ bet they'll be back. And if it's only one of them back, that'll be worse for you. They sort of compete over who should have the honour of killing you."

Servalan stood up straight. "It won't do you any good to tell them I'm here."

"Eh, I know that." Vila watched as Servalan strode off. He shrugged. No doubt she would be rescued. Not that he cared at the moment. He was just too tired and depressed. He sat down next to Tarrant and studied the earrings he'd lifted from Servalan during the kiss. "Very tacky." He shook his head and pocketed them.


	4. Same Lips, Different Words (Sallymn's request)

Avon wanted to see for himself that the IMIPAK weapon was safe. His definition of 'safe' involved dismantling the key. Servalan didn't have to know about it. Blake didn't have to know about it. 

While Blake conferred with his clone via the comm. Avon teleported down, tool pouch in hand. Orac had located a power source likely to belong to IMIPAK. It wasn't anywhere near the power source for the comm. With any luck, he would find the device, disarm the key, and leave, with no one the wiser. Blake's clone could wave the weapon about all he liked, then.

Avon arrived in a dusty, dimly-lit hall. He glanced around, and then used a portable detector to trace IMIPAK's energy emission signature. He followed it to a closed door and opened it.

His mouth went dry as he stared into Blake's eyes... no. The eyes of Blake's clone. The clone was holding IMIPAK, aiming it straight at him. Not that aim mattered. 

"I thought you were talking to Blake," Avon said irrationally.

"I was." The clone shrugged. "I... made him uncomfortable. Rashel is talking to him, making arrangements for supplies and contacts. This could be a good planet for a colony."

"Someone thought that previously. Obviously, they were wrong."

"Maybe they just didn't try hard enough." The clone smiled. "This is one planet Servalan fears. That might be incentive enough."

"It might just get more people killed. If Servalan saw you gathering an army, she could have the planet bombarded from space, or release plague spores in your upper atmosphere."

"What army?" The clone laughed. "There will be many people seeking sanctuary from conflict, people who don't want to be rebels or Federation slaves. This planet could be that sanctuary." He gazed at Avon thoughtfully, and put IMIPAK to one side. "Servalan doesn't trust anyone, not even her own man. She marked Travis. Who could she send to destroy the weapon that would give them power over her? No one. No, we're safe from her here."

"You're as big a fool as Blake."

The clone laughed again and rose to his feet. He moved in close to Avon. "No, I'm not." He pulled Avon close and kissed him.

Avon resisted for a moment, and then gave in, kissing Blake... the clone... back hard, hands roaming, fingers wrestling with fastenings. A moment later, strong hands stopped him and pushed him gently, but firmly, away. "I'm not him."

Avon shook his head. "You could be."

"No, no I couldn't." Not-Blake reached out to wipe dampness from Avon's upper lip. "I could love you, but it wouldn't be enough."

"It might be."

"No." The clone smiled. "The Rule of Life forbids I should take what another needs for his life. Blake needs you."

"He has a strange way of showing it."

"It's his way. Not mine. I'm not him. Think of us as brothers." He took Avon in his arms again and held him tight. "Look after my brother for me, Avon."

Avon sighed when the clone released him. "You wouldn't mind letting me disarm that before I go, would you?" He nodded at IMIPAK.

The clone tossed the weapon to Avon. Avon caught it. It felt suspiciously light. And rattled. He looked down at it. It was nothing more than a shell. He looked up at the clone in inquiry.

"It was too dangerous for anyone, even for me. I don’t want that kind of power."

"You're right, you're nothing like Blake." Avon turned aside, but a moment later the clone had grabbed him and pushed him against the wall. 

"Give Blake a chance. Give him the chance you would have given me."

"I don't dare." Avon looked at the clone bleakly. "I don't dare." He lifted his wrist. "Orac, bring me back."


	5. Bulletproof Kisses (Mistraltoes' request)

Avon opened his eyes and looked up from his bathe. He had left the door to the outer suite open while he tried to soak the chill of Terminal from his bones. Something... not a noise...ah, it had been a draft. He picked up his gun from the side of the tub and lunged out of the water. There was no point in being slow and cautious, he couldn't get out silently.

He ran out into the suite, diving sideways the moment he cleared the doorway, and bringing up his gun to face the intruder. It was Soolin.

She stood, her own gun aiming directly between Avon's eyes, a small smile playing about her lips. "My, you _are_ excitable," she said, her gaze wandering down his body while her aim remained rock-steady.

Avon gave her a feral grin, totally unembarrassed. "Responding to stimuli. That's the difference between the quick and the dead."

Soolin's eyelids flickered momentarily in acknowledgment. "Yes, it is." She paused. "I'm sorry I... stimulated you. Can we declare a cease-fire?"

Avon nodded. "Ladies first."

Soolin grinned. "Age before beauty?"

Avon laughed and moved the muzzle of his gun aside. Soolin holstered her weapon and then moved towards him. Avon left his gun on the floor and stood up.

Soolin smiled. "Aren't you afraid I'll shoot you now that your guard is down?"

"Not particularly." Avon returned her smile. "I'm dripping on you."

"Mmm. I don't want to ruin my clothes." Soolin stripped, slowly and casually. Avon watched her with equal casualness, although his body showed its interest.

"Now," Soolin said when she returned and put her arms about Avon's neck. "What was that you told Dorian about admiring his taste in women?"

Avon kissed her. He took his time about it. Soolin responded the same way. He was glad that she wasn't interested in sentiment. He didn't have any left to share. But it was good to be alive, and to prove to himself that he was alive.

Afterward, Avon dozed off. He felt Soolin's lips brush against his cheek. She said softly, "I've got to go back to work now." 

The scent of her perfume still lingered in the room when he properly woke several hours later. Oddly enough, it seemed strongest near his gun, still lying on the floor where he'd left it. He smiled as he picked up the gun. Soolin seemed attracted to his weapons.


	6. A Kiss in the Dark (hawkeye7's request)

Even though he was her favourite cousin, Jarriere did sometimes get on Servalan's nerves. It was obvious Krantor wouldn't find Travis for several hours, and she was bored of playing 'find the earring' amidst the piled up cushions on the ridiculous round bed that degenerate Krantor had provided. 

So she went for a walk, taking the opportunity to explore the less frequented regions. Ten minutes was enough to assure herself that all of Freedom City reeked of pointless sexual excess. It well deserved extermination. Sleazy erotica offended her sensibilities deeply. Sex was a business tool, yes, but a stiletto, not a bludgeon.

She paused in the shadows outside yet another tawdry saloon on the fringes. Two women were being forcibly ejected. She was mildly amused at first, and then startled to recognize them as Cally and Jenna. Two of Blake's crew, here? She wondered whether or not it would be to her advantage to kill them.

Cally turned in Servalan's direction, patting at her midriff, and saying something to Jenna while smiling ruefully. Jenna laughed and pointed to the alley where Servalan stood.

Servalan glanced around. The alley dead-ended behind her. She backed further into a noisome alcove and waited.

Cally entered the alley smiling, and fumbling with her gown. She had it hitched up to her waist when Servalan stepped forward, tiny gun in hand. "Oh, don't move a muscle," she said softly, "you look beautiful the way you are."

"Servalan." Cally looked at her coolly. "You might be interested to know I was adjusting the fit of a hand-blaster holster. My weapon is aimed directly between your breasts at the moment."

Servalan's smile brightened. "You're bluffing."

Cally grinned. "There's one way to find out."

"Surely there's more than one way." Servalan moved closer. She reached out her other hand, slowly and pressed it between Cally's legs. "Oh, yes, that's a gun." She ran her fingers over the weapon, and over Cally's hand, holding it. "I don't recognize it. Something new?"

Cally laughed softly. "A little something Avon and I worked out, between ourselves."

"Mmm... Avon. Perhaps I should pay more attention to him." Servalan's fingers caressed.

"I wouldn't recommend it." Cally reached out with her free hand and pulled Servalan close, kissing her with a sudden savagery at odds with her calm tones immediately beforehand. _Kiss me, you bitch._

Servalan moaned and dropped her gun. Cally kissed her thoroughly, and then pushed her away. "Thank you," Cally said, picking up Servalan's gun. "I believe I will keep this for a souvenir." She smiled wickedly. "Avon will be amused by it." Cally turned and strode out of the alley.

Servalan watched her go. Then she sighed, checked the setting on her other gun, and redid her lipstick.


End file.
